Dripping With Sin
by Female Violence
Summary: [SH4] Walter pays Henry a visit in Room 302. [WalterHenry]


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Dripping With Sin

Henry breathed harshly as he rested his hand on what was left of his bathroom sink. He smelt so revoltingly of blood and sweat he couldn't bear it. With an exhausted sigh he plopped himself on the seat of his bathtub and let his steel pipe clash to the floor. He grimaced at the mere sight of the weapon, blood (new and dry) smeared across it's uneven surface with bits of flesh. Sitting back he managed to get the beating of his heart under control, but those ghosts…

He glanced over the wounds marked on this trip: a wound the size of a fist still trickling blood in his chest, bite marks through his jeans, scratches across his face… His body ached so much, and so did his mind. He thought back to what Joseph had told him as he idly toed off his shoes and socks.

**"_When he was a little boy, he began to believe that my apartment was actually his birth mother. He decided to 'free' her from the stains and corruption of this world. At the orphanage, he learned of the '21 Sacraments', the only way to purify her._**

He then performed the ceremony of the 'Holy Assumption' and created this...twisted world. Now...he's become nothing more than an inhuman killing machine… Well, he's dead now, but he's trying to complete the '21 Sacraments'."

The...21...Sacraments...

Number 21... 'The Receiver of Wisdom'…Henry Townshend…"

Him? Apart of the 21 Sacraments? Henry managed a half-convincing laugh before he realized maybe he, too, had gone insane. He just couldn't understand. Why… it didn't make any… sense. A laugh rose in his throat, but he didn't have the energy or the enthusiasm to finish it. Did he just say something didn't make sense? What an inane thing to say…

This whole **world** didn't make sense. How could anyone make any sense out of such a jumbled mess? There was no logic, just a universe based around hell itself. No, Henry corrected himself, it **was** Hell.

After all he had been through in that nightmarish void how could he call it anything else?

Walter Sullivan was Satan himself… and Henry… he **HATED HIM!** To put a living human being through such a thing, to kill for your own purposes of childish nothings, was selfish. Goddamn selfish.

Henry looked up at the reflection in his broken mirror. Unkempt, rugged, dirty… Is this what had happened to him in the past few days? Is this what he had become? A monster… thinking such things would get him nowhere except deeper in despair, but he couldn't help but think how right he was… how deep he had hit the nail on the head.

He shook his head, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. _No, you shouldn't think like that._ He reminded himself. He had to keep a smile… a charade of a smile to keep himself and Eileen both from completely letting go and giving into death's welcoming arms. Except at moments sometimes they looked like the comforting arms of a lover. They would protect him, they would heal his scars, his sanity… had he any left?

He tore his shirt off, letting it slide off his slender body. He wanted the touch of a lover… he wanted to be held in arms like those and be told that everything would be okay. Like a child he was, but he craved it so bad. He wanted it so bad-- he needed it so very, very badly…

He undressed himself fully and left all of his clothes in a heap huddled by the toilet. Stepping in the shower he turned it on to full hot, enjoying the feeling on his aching body. This warmth was like caresses across his skin. He savored it, even though he knew it would end and he would have to go back, but Henry once more shook bad thoughts away from his mind. Letting out a content sigh, he closed his eyes and tossed his head back.

Suddenly the shower curtain was torn back and Henry felt himself being slammed against the shower wall. There with one hand in Henry's hair and one gripped on his arm was Walter in his trademark blue jacket and crazed expression. Henry gasped, attempting to wither away, which only caused Walter to tighten his gasp and let out a chuckle.

Henry felt stinging in his eyes abruptly. He choked back his sobs, but when he spoke he sounded so small… so **weak**.

"W-what the hell do you WANT!"

Tears mingled with the shower water as he looked to the drain.

"WHAT DO YOU **WANT** FROM ME! I haven't done anything to you!"

He gripped Walter's shoulders for support, not even trying to control his crying anymore.

"Henry Townshend…" Another chuckle… goddamn him.

"I've been watching you…" Walter's hand found Henry's chin and pulled his gaze down to meet the other's. He spoke again, his eyes filled with admiration.

"You take sympathy in those you barely know, help them for the sake of helping. You lend a hand without wanting anything in return. Selfless… so different from the rest of them, but just as helpless." He smirked.

"You talk of selflessness! You son-of-abitch--" Walter's hold on Henry's hair suddenly constricted and he scrapped his fingers against his scalp, an angry appearance sketched across his face.

"Shut up! Mother might hear you…"

"You damn selfish brat! You can't hold onto child ideals for this lon--"

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!" Walter pulled Henry's head back and bite down on his neck, bringing up blood. Henry whimpered, suddenly quiet… afraid. He spoke in a shaky voice

"Please… just stop this… stop this…" The sound of desperation…

"I can't… I must be with Mother." Walter licked the wound he had made on Henry's neck as in comfort…

"What does this have to do with me?" Henry's eyes pleading…

"You are the last of the 21 Sacraments, it must be done. I have no choice… I must be with Mother."

Henry shook his head, gasping for breathe as he left out an unstable snivel.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Henry growled the best he could, feeling brave as he lifted himself from the wall.

Walter suddenly gripped him even harder then before, if possible, and whispered deathly into Henry's ear.

"You'll pay for those words." Before Henry could even comprehend the meaning he was thrown across the bathroom floor, landing on shards of glass from the broken mirror. He shrieked, hurrying up but before he could do anything Walter was there, slamming him back down.

He didn't feel so brave anymore. He begged for forgiveness as if Walter was his Savior, but only received a push closer to the ground. The cold tile of his bathroom floor, the shards of glass ripping his skin apart…

"I was going to be gentle… I like you, Henry. You have a pure soul and a good heart, but you have insulted my Mother and my motives. You do not deserve my love."

Henry's eyes widened. Walter is going to…? _Oh my God!_ Henry screamed.

"SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE HELP!" He wiggled under Walter's hold, but only managed to get the pieces of mirror shards to drive farther into him. He cried out, arching his back in pain. Walter only laughed at his struggle.

Henry reached his arms out for anything he could use as a weapon… and felt the familiar texture of the steel pipe. He gripped it firmly and swung upwards towards Walter, striking him across the face. Blood trickled down on Henry's bare chest and before Walter could react he jumped up, climbing into the hole.

Walter took hold of his ankle.

"You think you can run? I made that world, and I'll find you no matter where you hide!"

He snarled, yanking Henry back into the bathroom and succeeded in knocking his head against the sink. Not enough to knock him unconscious, but enough for him to cry out in pain. On the floor under him a small pool of blood appeared under his head.

The sight of this aroused Walter and he crouched above Henry, whispering in his ear.

"I want you." Henry just groaned and attempted to shove Walter off, but merely touched his shoulder's instead. Walter intertwined his hand with Henry's, using the other to balance his weight.

He bent down and crushed his lips to Henry's in a binding kiss. Henry didn't have the will to kiss back, so he laid there and took this abuse like he had for the past five days.

Walter pulled back and worked his way down Henry's body, mapping the dips and curve, the areas that made Henry gasp in need. Was he giving in to pleasure?

Henry's now hard cock twitched as Walter wrapped his hand around it, running his thumb over the head gently spreading drops of pre-cum. Henry moaned against his will as Walter started to pump his hand slowly up and down.

"Stop… stop… stop…" Henry repeated over and over, but pleasure swam within his hazel eyes and he had already drown in this sweet paradise. It didn't have strange creatures or horrid dimensional worlds… just complete bliss, and he forgot where he was and focused on that hand on him…

He felt himself nearing orgasm. He arched up, barely noticing the shards of glass anymore. The worlds forgotten, this agony gone, these thoughts were none of his concern. He screamed, but Walter drowned the high shrill in a kiss as Henry came all over his hand.

His manhood fell limp once more and he barley had time to recover when he heard the sound of pants being unzipped. His vision was still hazy with stars as he looked up, trying to piece together what was happening.

Walter sat with his pants half-down and took Henry by the ribs, bringing him forward to sit in his lap, wrapping Henry's legs around him. Henry suddenly realized his situation and trembled. Walter just smirked, enjoying Henry's weakness.

He positioned his cock steadily, and then without warning pushed it all the way into Henry's ass.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh!" Henry's scream was hoarse, he could not believe this was happening… he didn't want to believe. Where was his nirvana?

"PLEASE! GOD!" He put his head at the crook of Walter's shoulder and reached his hands as far as they would go for something to hold onto to, but only found air. He resorted to gripping the only thing he could… Walter. He tightly wrapped his arms around his neck and hid his face, crying.

He was being torn up from the inside and it hurt horribly… he was _pleading _for Walter to stop. Walter took to a faster pace and started to pound in again and again. Henry sobbed loudly.

"STOP! Just stop you… fucking psycho…" Tears soaked into Walter's skin. The sound of Henry's crying pushed him over the edge, as well as his tightness. He came inside Henry, moaning his name.

They sat there after, Henry in complete shock. His arms hung limp, his eyes red and puffy. Was this his thanks? If there was a God… he was unbelievably cruel.

Walter pulled out of him and Henry rolled onto the floor, blood pouring down his legs and he lie there, frozen in fear. He looked up and found himself alone once more, with a lot more mess then he had started out with.

He got up and wiped his tears away, ashamed. His dignity had perished with his sanity. He had no hope… and the only thing he could think of when he was picking slices of glass from his back was this:

_Death's touch would have been so much gentler…_


End file.
